Purgatory
by Magicallioness
Summary: Seventh year and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny have decided to return to Hogwarts after all. Both old friends and old enemies have returned. But nothing is the same. Harry wants to start the hunt for the Horcruxes and finds he gets help from unexpected p
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: _  
_Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. _

_Author's note's:_  
_This fic was written for __twistedm. in the Hds Beltane fic exchange on livejournal. It's beta'd, but not finished. I signed up for this exchange and started enthusiastically researching Beltane and then I moved and started my own company. It swamped me completely and to make matters worse, this fic grew into a multichaptered monster.  
This was Twistedm.'s request: lots and lots of UST between Harry and Draco (but they can have sex in the end), hot NC-17 slash (can be between any two or three people in the fic) that makes me really wet, snark, humor, fic on the longer side.  
No warnings, nothing exciting in the prologue, but the story is meant to reach NC-17 ... eventually. Thanks heaps to Naadi who did a hell of a betaing job on this._

**Summary:** ******  
****Seventh year and Harry, Ron, Hermoine and Ginny have decided to return to Hogwarts after all. Both old friends and old enemies have returned. But nothing is the same. Harry wants to start the hunt for the Horcruxes and finds he gets help from unexpected people. And what is up with Malfoy?**  
******Chapter summary: ****  
Prologue, in which Harry's shocked, Hermoine's wise, Ron's indignant and Ginny says important stuff.**

_**  
Prologue**_

This is not happening! It's utterly ubelievable! But there's definitely no mistaking it. I'm certain that I just saw someone with very blond hair hop quickly from the train and that could only mean one thing: Malfoy is coming back to Hogwarts. I just catch the mixture of suprise and fear on his face, before he enters a carriage.

"I can't believe they would let him back in, after what he did!" I say indignantly as I turn towards Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who are standing next to me on the platform of Hogwarts station. The bright red Hogwarts Express is stretched almost along the entire platform puffing out small clouds of steam that I feel might just as well be coming out of my ears.

At my outburst, Hermione turns to me with a confused look on her face, but before she can ask me what I mean, Ron informs her icily that Malfoy is back at Hogwarts. The held-back anger I feel, sounds clearly in his voice.

Hermione looks first Ron then me in the eye searchingly before she quietly says: "I'm sure Headmistress McGonagall has good reasons." Ron and I round on her simultaniously, our shoes making a scraping noise that is mostly, but not entirely drowned out by the tap-tapping of the shoes belonging to the dozens of students that rush by us, hurrying out of the rain and into the carriages. Both Ron and I are fuming, but Hermione doesn't give an inch. She just looks up at us down her nose. I realize that should be quite impossible, but leave it to Hermione to make the impossible work for her.

"'Mione! He tried to kill Dumbledore! What possible reason could McGonagall have not to kill him on sight?" Ron asks her, a 'how-could-you?' look burning in his eyes. He always reacts this way when she doesn't agree with him. Even after all these years, he still takes it as a form of betrayal. I can predict Hermione's agitated sigh long before the sound actually reaches my ears.

"I know very well what Malfoy did last year. That's precisely why I think McGonagall has good reasons for letting him back in school. It won't be exactly easy on him, you know," she tells Ron.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. "Why the hell should it be easy on him? How about us? We have to deal with the fact that we can't do a thing as Dumbledore's murderer sits in a classroom with us every week!" I get even angrier about it when I say it and I don't care that my voice is rising or that the other students start throwing glances at us. I am silenced though, by Ginny's voice, laced with so many different emotions I can't even begin to disentangle them all.

"He didn't kill Dumbledore, Snape did," she says and when I open my mouth to tell her that doesn't make him any less guilty, she holds up her hand to silence me. "If you want to blame Malfoy for killing Dumbledore, you will have to blame me for everything the Basilisk did too."

I look at her, dumbfounded. How can she even think about comparing herself with that – that bastard Malfoy! But she's still talking. She doesn't say much these days, but when she does, it matters, so we listen.

"As much as I hate Malfoy, I can't deny that he might very well have been in the same sort of position I was. I didn't mean to release the Basilisk, but I did. And although Malfoy probably wasn't under the influence of a diary, he might very well have been under the influence of something or someone. So yes, if you really believe Malfoy killed Dumbledore, then you must also blame me for releasing the Basilisk." All through her speech I shake my head furiously, sending droplets of water spraying around. I wonder fleetingly why it always has to rain when we return to Hogwarts, but dismiss the question as irrelevant at the moment.

"You know that's not true, Gin. You didn't know what you were doing, he did. I was there, he tried to kill Dumbledore himself." I pause because Hermoine guides us towards the last few carriages and the slight push in my back catches me off guard.

"He tried, yes, but he didn't. What I want to know is, why?" she says as we finally reach an empty carriage. Her question resonates in the silence that falls over us after we all pile into the carriage. I'm the only one who can even begin to try and answer that question, because I'm the only one of us who was there, who saw it all. And every time the question comes up, I want to say Malfoy didn't kill Dumbledore because he was too scared to do it, but I know that's not the truth. Not the complete truth, anyway. Yes, Malfoy was terrified at that moment, but while Dumbledore talked to him and I was forced to stay hidden under the invisibility cloak, I saw something else in his eyes. An emotion I'm not ready to admit was there.

As we ride towards Hogwarts, the only sounds to break the silence are the rattling of the carriages' wheels and the clip-clop of the Thestrals' hoofs. And at that last sound I suddenly remember Malfoys surprised and slightly scared look just before he got into his carriage. It's only now that I realize he wasn't looking at anyone, he was looking at the front of his carriage. But what could have happened to Malfoy over the summer that made him able to see Thestrals?


	2. Chapter 1 Sight

_Disclaimer:__  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. _

_Author's note's:  
This fic was written for twistedm. in the Hds Beltane fic exchange on livejournal. It's beta'd, but not finished. I signed up for this exchange and started enthusiastically researching Beltane and then I moved and started my own company. It swamped me completely and to make matters worse, this fic grew into a multichaptered monster.  
This was Twistedm.'s request: lots and lots of UST between Harry and Draco (but they can have sex in the end), hot NC-17 slash (can be between any two or three people in the fic) that makes me really wet, snark, humor, fic on the longer side.  
No warnings, nothing exciting in the prologue, but the story is meant to reach NC-17 ... eventually. Thanks heaps to Naadi who did a hell of a betaing job on this._

**Summary:** **  
Seventh year and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny have decided to return to Hogwarts after all. Both old friends and old enemies have returned. But nothing is the same. Harry wants to start the hunt for the Horcruxes and finds he gets help from unexpected people. And what is up with Malfoy?****  
Chapter Summery:  
In which Harry is overwhelmed, Snape makes an appearance, Malfoy shocks the trio and a new teacher has a surprising announcement to make.**

_**Chapter 1 Sight**_

When we finally reach the Great Hall it's full of indignant whispers and hissed curses instead of the usual chatter and laughter. I freeze in the doorway as I spot the reason for the grim atmosphere. I stay rigid for only a moment. Several hands try to grab my arms, one or two even slide across my legs, but not one of them can stop me as I sprint towards the teachers table.

"You!" I scream as I push my wand under Snape's chin. "How dare you return here!" Snape's forced to put his chin up because I'm pressing my wand into the tender spot just behind his jaw line. It only enables him to look down on me.

The Great Hall has gone absolutely silent and somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that everyone must be watching me. Waiting to see what I will do or perhaps wondering how Snape will react.

"Mister Potter," he answers calmly. "You may be held in high regard by _some_ people, but I do not believe you have anything to say about who is and who is not allowed behind this castle's walls."

His calm poise only infuriates me more, but by now both Ron and Hermione are holding on to my arms, fighting to hold me back, so I can't get any closer to Snape. I see the corner of his mouth turn up into a cruel smile.

"No, professor Snape, he has not. Mister Potter, please sit down for the welcoming ceremony. We'll discuss this in my office later." McGonagall's words are kind enough, but her voice is clad with iron and razorsharp points. The message behind her tight smile is clear: either sit down now, or get expelled later. I lower my wand, but before I walk away I lean over the table towards Snape.

"I'd watch my back if I were you," I whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that nobody else does. He narrows his eyes at me, but doesn't comment.

Whispers start to rise again as Ron, Hermione and I step down from the teacher's stage and walk across the Great Hall. I see Hermione draw a breath as we sit down at the Gryffindor table and hold up my hand.

"No speeches Hermoine," I tell her. Something akin to worry and shock flashes across her eyes at the sound of my voice, but she doesn't say a thing. Just like Snape, and Ginny. As McGonagall starts her welcoming speech, I wonder why everybody has stopped talking to me. Even Ron doesn't say what he really thinks or feels anymore. He talks, but it's all idle chit-chat about the Cannons or Hermione or what Fred and George did this time.

As my thoughts wander, so do my eyes and it's through them I get my third shock of the day. Malfoy's not at his regular place at the Slytherin table. Instead of being surrounded by friends and making nasty comments about the speech, he sits at some distance from the other Slytherins and seems to be listening attentively to what McGonagall has to say. But that's not what shocks me.

"Look at Malfoy!" I hiss to Ron and Hermione. Ron's face pales visibly as he does and Hermione actually gasps. The perfect, soft-colored skin of Malfoy's face is distorted by a large, angry scar. It's not lighter, but darker than the rest of his face. A large bronze line of risen flesh starts just below his left eyebrow and runs all the way across his nose. It becomes a complete line everytime he blinks and is devided as long his eyes are open. The scar ends halfway across his right cheek.

"What happened to him?" Ron wonders, wild shock appearent is his voice.

_Something to make him see Thestrals._

But I don't say it. My gut tells me not to talk about that right now and my gut has never been wrong before. For the second time today though, I wonder what exactly happened to Malfoy over the summer.

After making up possibilities that span the shockingly small horizon of Malfoy being punished for failing to kill Dumbledore by Voldemort and Malfoy being punished for failing to kill Dumbledore by his father, my attention is averted by the Sorting Ceremony.

I watch the faces of the young children as they walk through the doors of the Great Hall, clinging to each other, their eyes darting from side to side nervously, much like mine did when I first got here. God, it seems like such a long time ago that I was one of those children. Scared, but still excited about discovering this new world. A world that would finally make me feel at home, a world that now looks to me to save it.

I look at their faces, beautiful and ugly, childish and mature, scared and excited, but all searching the Gryffindor table and spotting me, spotting the scar. And I read it in their eyes, the hope, the certainty that I'll save them. That I'll be able to do something even Dumbledore couldn't. And I have to look away.

Those eyes are suffocating me, all of them asking me to do something I can't, to live up to something I'm not. I squeeze my own eyes shut in an effort to keep them out. Hermione quickly withdraws her hand when I startle at her touch.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asks softly, her eyes running over my face as if searching for an answer I can't give her. I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself and feel the pressure that has built up in my ears and around my throat lessen somewhat.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I answer. But I can't bear to look at any of the new students and spend the entire Sorting Ceremony staring at the empty plate in front of me. I almost sigh in relief when dinner starts and my thoughts are occupied by conversation with friends I haven't seen for most of the summer.

Almost everyone has come back to Hogwarts. Most parents consider it to be one of the safest places in the Wizarding World at the moment. It's the very reason I decided to return here after all. That, and the fact that Hogwarts library has the best research facilities I can get into. All right, that was the reason Hermione thought we should go back to Hogwarts, but I agreed with her.

But now, after seeing all those expectant faces, after finding out both people held responsible for Dumbledores death have been welcomed into this castle again, I'm not so sure it was a good idea. Anger burns bright and hot as I realize that Mafloy and Snape have succeeded in making Hogwarts feel uncomfertable. Despite all that has hapened here, this weird old castle has always felt like home to me. But now, it feels alien and cold, like the drafty old castle that it is. And I hate them even more for it.

It's a good thing McGonagall stands to introduce the teachers before sending us off to our dorms, because my plate is starting to crack and I can see my glass of pumpkin juice vibrate with the waves of angry magic I'm sending out. Hermione sends me a sharp look and I make an effort to concentrate on the teachers table, where McGonagall is introducing our new Muggle Studies teacher.

Professor Kalama, as McGonagall calls her, stands and nods in the general direction of the Great Hall. She smiles at the whispers that go around the hall at her choice of clothing. Instead of wizarding robes, she's dressed in Muggle clothing, but I have to wonder if she reallys knows anything about Muggles. Her jeans are visible just above the table, as are the three chains that trail from her waistband to somewhere behind her back. I suspect that they connect to her wallet, stowed away in one of her back pockets. Dudley insisted on the same attire some years ago, claiming it was 'hot'. Unfortunately the Dursleys had been unable to find a wallet with a chain long enough to actually reach from Dudleys waistband to back pocket.

Professor Kalama's not as stringy as McGonnagal, but she isn´t fat either and the jeans suit her very well. Above it however she wears a baby pink longsleeved shirt with a neckline that drops considerably below the neck, showing the top of her cleavage. What really does it though, are the black leather body warmer and pink cap. It's not a baseball cap, more a failed cross between a painter's hat and a baseball cap. Professor Kalama pulls off the outfit surprisingly well, but she stands out like a Gryffindor in the Slytherin common room.

"Is that a Muggle outfit?" Ron asks, a little out of breath.

"Of sorts," Hermione answers, disapproval obvious in her tone. Ron spares her a sideways glance, but quickly refocuses on professor Kalama.

"Hello, Hogwarts. As your Headmistress so kindly told you, I am your new Muggle Studies teacher," she silences momentarily at the huffing that erupts at the Slytherin table. When she speaks again, her voice booms through the Great Hall as if strengthened by a Sonorus spell. "All of yours".

Several gasps and sounds of disbelieve drift over from the Slytherin table. Some Gryffindors snicker in return.

"Since the war against Voldemort has now crossed over to the Muggle world, the Ministry of Magic has decided that it would be in our best interest to cooperate with them. Understanding them will, therefore, be crucial. To make sure our combined efforts to take down Voldemort are most effective, you are to learn all you can about Muggles and they are to learn what they can about us, "professor Kalama holds up her hands to silence the rush of indignant voices coming from the Slytherin table and the suprised sounds drifting from others. The fact that she actually says Voldemort without fear doesn't elude me.

"That was the well thought out, publicly acceptable speech the ministry wanted me to give you. Now I´ll spell it out for you in plain English. Voldemort is attacking Muggles, Muggles are getting scared of us, to prevent a war starting between us and them, the Ministry is forced to expose our world and our problems, but not all Muggles have chosen our side. It is likely you will encounter bullets as well as curses when this war reaches us, and it will," she pauses and looks at me. But it is not an accusing look, nor is it threatening. She´s merely stating that Voldemort will eventually come after me and will therefore attack Hogwarts at some point. Being forced to look at the facts still hurts though.

"I´m supposed to teach you how to wage war in cooperation with Muggles and how to survive their weapons. But the Ministry can´t really sell that to your parents, so they wrapped it in a nice and non-descript 'combined effort' package," professor Kalama finishes her explanation.

The reaction from the Great Hall is diverse. Some look at her in open mouthed shock, some look grim, a lot of them look scared. And most of them only now realize how close this war has gotten.

"How can she just say it like that," Hermione sputters in wild disbelief. I look at her horrified face.

"I think it's rather refreshing to have someone finally telling us the truth," Ron counters. Several Gryffindors voice their agreements. I don´t say anything, just look at professor Kalama, searching for some clue that explaines why she so readily breaks all the veils of secrecy that have been pulled up around Voldemort and his Death Eaters, even around here, trying to find out if she really is telling the truth. Next to her, proffesor Sprout looks just as shocked as Hermoine sounded. From his end of the table, Snape looks at professor Kalama with open disapproval and disgust. I´m drawn to McGonagalls face though. I can´t be sure, but I think I see a tiny smile play around the lines of her mouth.


	3. Chapter 2 Touch

_Disclaimer:__  
Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. _

_Author's note's:  
This fic was written for twistedm. in the Hds Beltane fic exchange on livejournal. It's beta'd, but not finished. I signed up for this exchange and started enthusiastically researching Beltane and then I moved and started my own company. It swamped me completely and to make matters worse, this fic grew into a multichaptered monster.  
This was Twistedm.'s request: lots and lots of UST between Harry and Draco (but they can have sex in the end), hot NC-17 slash (can be between any two or three people in the fic) that makes me really wet, snark, humor, fic on the longer side.  
No warnings, nothing exciting in the prologue, but the story is meant to reach NC-17 ... eventually. Thanks heaps to Naadi who did a hell of a betaing job on this._

**Summary:** **  
Seventh year and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny have decided to return to Hogwarts after all. Both old friends and old enemies have returned. But nothing is the same. Harry wants to start the hunt for the Horcruxes and finds he gets help from unexpected people. And what is up with Malfoy?  
****Chapter Summary:  
In which Harry and Draco serve a memorable detention together, professor Kalama puts her class to work and Hermione earns points for Gryffindor. **

_**  
Chapter 2 Touch**_

Despite everything, we settle into our normal school routine. We attend classes and do our homework like there's not a war going on out there. Like there hasn't been a major shift in our way of life. Like the exposure of our world isn't causing a huge rift in wizarding society. It's hypocritical and ridiculous in most ways, but – to me at least – it's also vaguely comforting to know that in the midst of this chaos that used to be my life, some things have stayed the same.

Another one of those things is Snape. He has gone back to teaching Potions and the only thing I learned from McGonagall during our talk is that if I don't treat him with the respect a teacher deserves, I might as well walk out the door right now. Of course Ron and I had a real uproar about it and after that at Hermione for holding firm in her beliefs that McGonagall probably has good reasons. But that was weeks ago and we're all more or less past that. Most of us who were loyal to Dumbledore either don't know who killed him or have been forced to endure Snape.

For Malfoy though, it's a different story. Those of us who were loyal to Dumbledore hated him anyway, but it seems like the Slytherins don't look up to him the way they used to either. If I expected him to be bothered by that, I was dead wrong, however. He's worse than ever, stalking me in the hallways between classes, hunting me down on the grounds and always, always trying to get a rise out of me. I'm sorry to say that he succeeds most of the time.

I'm sorry about that, because besides Quidditch, schoolwork and the research for the Horcruxes, I don't really have time for detention. Especially not these ones with Malfoy. I sigh, as I turn up the umpteenth desk to scrape various magical candies from its bottom.

"Oh, stop sighing like a bloody martyr, I'm the one who's stuck here with you of all people without having done anything wrong," Malfoy snaps from under a desk. I actually bristle. It's not like Malfoy has never gotten on my nerves or under my skin before, but this year it seems I'm especially vulnerable to his remarks and comments. I clench my teeth together and hiss at him.

"Of course not, because you never do anything wrong, do you? Except, wait ... there was something ... oh right, I remember. You killed Dumbledore!" Malfoy straightens and looks me in the eye. The calm and poisedness of his movements belie the anger that burns behind those blueish grey walls of ice. He draws himself up to his full height, which is rather impressive even though I outgrew him by several centimetres.

"I did not kill Dumbledore," he states. His voice comes from the back of his throat and is swollen with restrained anger. I can't for the life of me figure out why this accusation gets him so upset. He pointed his wand at Dumbledore's chest when Dumbledore offered him sanctuary, just before Snape finished the job. He might as well have killed Dumbledore and all the others that died that night, because he was the one who let all the Death Eaters into the castle.

"Oh that's just like you isn't it? Only claiming responsibility for your actions when they are profitable to you. You're disgusting and a murderer," I dismiss him, the most painful blow I can deal him, and return to scraping the black Bubbling Gum from underneath a desk. Merlin only knows what taste it is. I'm still boiling with anger and the scraper chips a little wood out of the board every time I pull it over the gum.

"At least I didn't send my godfather into a death-trap," Malfoy sneers at me. I lunge at him without thinking about it. I'm mostly thinking about sinking my fist into that sick face of his, but as soon as I connect with Malfoy all thought is dissolved into a blinding white flash of searing pain. I hear someone scream, but I'm not sure which one of us it is. I come to my senses because I land on the floor of the classroom, hard. I grab my head to steady the spinning room and try to sit up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Malfoy cowering in a corner, holding his head and whispering. I can't make out what he's saying.

"Malfoy?" I ask carefully, but apparently even that bit of sound is too much for him. His whispers rise to a loud chant. His voice is unnaturally high and squeaky with fear. He's saying "no, no, no, no, no" over and over again.

"Malfoy," I try again, moving closer to him and reaching out a hand to touch him. He screams as soon as he sees my hand and I'm startled by the classroom door banging open and Snape and McGonagall hurrying inside. Snape hurries over to Malfoy and puts a soothing hand on his head, right over his scar.

"Did you touch him?" McGonagall asks me, none too friendly. I look at her, dumbfounded, and with no clue what she's going on about.

"Did you?" she asks again, impatience written all over her face. I shake my head, still bewildered by what is going on.

"N-no, of course not. Why would I?" I stammer and push myself backwards on my hands and feet involuntarily when Snape rounds on me.

"Why would you? Why did you all those other times?" he almost spits the words out at me, as if I'm too vile a creature to waste words on.

"I never touched him!" I protest vehemently. All this and now I'm being accused of molesting Malfoy? And more than once to make matters worse! I throw Malfoy an angry look. I don't know what the hell he's been telling, but I sure as hell-

"Of course you did," McGonagall interrupts my thoughts and a feeling of betrayal settles deep down in my gut. I can't believe she would believe Malfoy over me. But she continues to speak, before I can voice any defence. "You two fight almost on a daily basis. Unless you have found a way to punch and kick each other with a wand, you're touching each other," McGonagall states matter-of-factly. I feel a heated blush creep up my face as I realize how stupid I was.

"Oh, well, in that case I guess I did touch him, yes," I mumble.

"Don't do it again," she tells me, before she marches after Snape, who carries Malfoy out of the classroom. I'm left sitting on the cold stone floor, wondering if this means my detention is over or not. After several minutes I decide it is and head back to the Gryffindor common room to talk to Ron and Hermione.

We are still talking about the incident with Malfoy, coming up with and dismissing explanations for what happened when we enter professor Kalama's classroom the next morning and slide into adjoining seats in the front row. Hermione insists on sitting in the front row.

"Are you certain it was your touch that caused his reaction?" she wants to know. I flinch at the way her question sounds, at the idea it may give people.

"McGonagall seemed to be positive," I tell her. A deep frown settles between Hermione's eyes and I'm not at all sure that bodes well. It either means she has no idea what is going on and is searching for any leads or she does have a pretty good idea of what is happening and it's really bad. I decide a frowning Hermione is definitely not a good thing.

"So, he was really cowering in the corner of that classroom?" Ron asks again. I heave an irritated sigh and Ron should consider himself fortunate Hermione is too deep in thought to hear him or he would've been smacked upside the head.

"Can we please get over that, Ron? It's not helping much," I ask, turning hard eyes on my best friend. Really, none of us particularly likes Malfoy, but Ron's fixation about Malfoy being in pain is just unhealthy. He looks at me shocked, like I just chose Malfoy's side and mumbles something inaudible before crossing his arms over his chest and obstinately looking the other way. I sigh and turn my attention back to Hermione.

"Do you think he has been cursed or something? I ask her, but she doesn't answer, just keeps staring straight ahead.

"Yeah, that might be it. Something to make him hurt whenever he comes near Harry," Ron puts in, the excitement making him forget he's supposed to be angry with me. But Hermione still doesn't answer, just throws an annoyed look our way.

"'Mione?" Ron asks, worry seeping into his voice. He jumps in his chair when professor Kalama's voice pierces the silence that has settled over the classroom.

"If your conversation is so interesting it can't wait until after my class, perhaps you would care to tell us what you are talking about, Mister Weasley?" she asks from behind her desk. Ron's ears turn slightly darker than usual as he realizes class has already started.

"Sorry, ma'am," he mutters and I think he really is sorry about it, which surprises me a little, because Ron never cared much about classes. Hermione seems to think so too, because she throws him a suspicious look.

"No?" professor Kalama asks. "What about you, Mister Potter?" My eyes acutely snap from Ron's reddening face to professor Kalama's dark brown eyes. There's a sharpness to them that makes me feel distinctly uneasy.

"No, professor. Sorry about that," my voice hardly rises above a whisper but she seems satisfied. Her curls bob up and down as she nods at us once before turning around and taking something out of the large cabinet that stands behind her desk. She's wearing a mantle suit today, with skirt and stripes and all.

"Does anyone know what this is?" she asks as she turns back around and places a miniature maypole on her desk. It's quite handsome. The pole itself seems carved out of a very thin piece of wood and is painted white, there's a twirling line etched into the wood that runs down the pole. Several colourful and very tiny ribbons are tied at the top, but I can't really see what makes them stand out instead of hanging down. The entire thing is mounted on a piece of plaster that is made to look like grass. Several hands shoot into the air at the professor's question.

"Does anyone without Muggle relatives know what it is?" she rephrases the question. Hermione looks distinctly disappointed at not being allowed to answer this question. But she isn't the only one to drop her hand; none stay in the air. Professor Kalama sighs.

"Well, at least it proves I can really teach you something," she says rather sarcastically and I'm unpleasantly reminded of Snape.

"Or it proves that every one of us has a Muggle relative," Hermione pipes up. It's rather shocking to hear her talk without permission, but professor Kamala doesn't seem to mind. Instead, she praises Hermione.

"Very keen observation Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor for critical listening," she says. Hermione breaks out in a broad smile and I know that she has decided there and then that professor Kalama isn't so bad at all.

"This is a Maypole, a miniature mind you, but still a Maypole. Now, I can sit here and tell you what its use is and how many Muggle holidays are connected with ours. In fact, I could go on about that for hours, but I don't think you will be awake by then – well, except for Miss Granger perhaps – and I'm certain I will be suffering from a dry throat at the least. So instead of me explaining everything, you are going to research these holidays and celebrations for yourself." A collective groan sounds through the classroom at this. We all know what it means, hours worth of searching through dusty tomes in the library. Professor Kalama laughs.

"Yes, I thought you might not have discovered the joy of research yet, Miss Granger excluded again of course, so I thought up something to motivate you. You will be split into groups of three and draw a holiday or celebration from my hat. You will then research the Muggle celebration and its connections to ours, if any. You will present your findings as a neatly bound paper. We are not first years anymore; parchment is passé. Each group will then present his holiday before the rest of the class on the appointed date. The holiday of the group that does best gets to be celebrated at Hogwarts, by the entire school," professor Kalama explains. Instead of groans, the class is now producing excited whispers.

"Oh, wow! I hope we get the celebration of the Chudley Cannons championship," Ron whispers excitedly. Hermione turns towards him with one eyebrow raised and it suddenly strikes me that Malfoy does the very same thing when annoyed.

"I don't think that's the sort of celebration the professor was talking about Ronald," she informs him.

"Besides," I put in, "There's no way the Cannons are getting the cup this year." I don't think anything I say is going to make up for that one.


End file.
